Scream (12 page)

The Dobermans were around constantly, so exploring an
escape route through the trapdoor in the barn floor was out
of the question. Unless she wanted to become dog food. She'd drained the rest of the water this afternoon and had one apple
left. Her clothes were getting tattered; her hair was a tangled
rat's nest, and she stank. The whole barn stank. She'd taken to
using a corner for the bathroom, covering her waste with straw
in an attempt to control the odor. But it still stank.

The cat eyes grew larger and the engine louder, and the dogs
started barking. Amber watched as the lights cut through the
darkness all the way to the barn, stopped in front of the barn door,
and the engine quit. It was the white sedan. Judge was back.

The driver-side door opened, and a man-she could tell it was
Judge by his posture-climbed out and opened the back door.
With a loud grunt, he jerked something out of the backseat,
bent low, and heaved it onto his shoulder. Amber couldn't make
out what it was. It was too dark. The sky had grown cloudy late
in the day, and now a thick covering blocked out all light from
the moon and stars.

Judge left the car's headlights on to spotlight the front of
the barn, and when he stepped into the light with the object
slung over his shoulder, Amber almost let out a scream. It was
a person, dressed in red. A woman, her body dangling over his
shoulder like a rag doll, arms and hair reaching for the ground
behind him, bottom sticking up in the air in front.

Amber rushed over to the barn door and stopped ten feet
away, waiting, wringing her hands. The cold air burned in her
lungs. The cinder block was pushed away, the lock jangled,
and the door swung open. She moved back a couple steps
when judge stepped through the doorway, the beam from the
headlights backlighting him, pasting him as a chalky black
silhouette against the yellow light. He stopped about five feet
inside the barn, bent to one knee, and carefully lowered the
woman dressed in red onto the floor.

Anger ballooned in Amber's chest. Another woman. She suddenly had the urge to rush judge, pounce on him like a rabid
cat, and claw his eyes out. She clenched her fists and tightened
her jaw, mustering the nerve to throw herself at him. If she was
ever going to have a chance, this was it. While he was bent over,
his attention fixed on the woman in red. The new woman. She
could catch him off guard, put him out of commission just long
enough so she could flee the barn and disappear into the night,
and then... then what? She had no idea where she was. It didn't
matter, though. She'd be free. Or the car. He must have left the
keys in there. She could take it and roll. And if the attack didn't
work? Then she'd surely die. But she was going to die anyway,
right? That was judge's plan, right? Sooner or later. If it had to
be, it might as well be sooner.

When she'd decided on her course of action and set her jaw
for action, she dug one toe into a floorboard and tensed her
muscles. But just then the Dobermans appeared in the doorway
of the barn, crouched and snarling like they had read her mind.
They were warning her back, back into her corner.

Without saying a word, judge stood and glared at the Dobermans. The dogs remained in the doorway, tamping the floor
with their paws, coal-black eyes fixed on Amber, tongues flitting in and out of their mouths. Judge turned toward Amber,
held both palms up, and motioned toward the woman. The dogs
following him, he then turned and retreated from the barn, shut
the door, and locked it.

As soon as judge's footsteps began crunching softly over the
dirt again, Amber rushed to the woman and knelt by her side.
It was too dark to make out the features of her face, but she
seemed to be young. She rolled the new woman onto her back
and felt her face for blood and her head for lumps. None. She
felt clean. She smelled clean.

Moments later the car door shut again, and judge's footsteps grew closer. The lock on the door disengaged, and he stepped
through holding two paper bags. After setting them on the
floor, he straightened himself and faced Amber. "More stuff.
Food, blankets, warmer clothes."

With that, he turned and left, locked the door, slid the cinder
block in place, and seconds later started the engine. The car
pulled away, tires crunching packed dirt, and slowly drifted
down the lane and out of sight.

Amber returned her attention to the new woman. She patted
her cheek. "Hey. Honey. You OK?" She cupped a hand over her
mouth and coughed.

No response. He must have drugged her.

She didn't want to move the new girl until daylight, so she
gathered some straw for a pillow, rooted through one of the
paper bags for a blanket, and covered her where she lay. She then
felt through the bag for the clothes, pulled out a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, and quickly donned them, thankful
for the warmer clothes. In the bottom of the bag was a pair of
white athletic socks. Checking the other bag, she found another
gallon of water, more toilet paper, apples, and a box of cereal.

Amber then made herself a bed next to the new girl and
lay close. They could keep each other warm. She lay there, on
her back, for a long time, staring into the darkness, listening
to the high-pitched chirps of a bat family coming and going.
He'd abducted another one. How many more would there be?
How long would he keep them here? What was he planning for
them? Questions swirled in her head like autumn leaves blown
about by a stiff wind until sleep finally overtook her.

Amber was up at first light. She'd actually fallen into a deep sleep
last night. The sweats kept her warm enough, and that, mingled with the overwhelming fatigue from three nights of restlessness
and discomfort, made it possible to get almost a full night's
sleep. She rubbed her eyes, coughed, and swallowed hard. Her
throat was worsening. She sat up and suddenly remembered the
young woman beside her. She could see her clearly now: brown
hair with wide, dark blonde streaks, soft features, plump build.
She looked to be late twenties, near Amber's own age.

Amber pulled herself up, stretched her arms behind her back,
and shuffled to the wall for a look outside. The sun had just crested
the treetops, shooting rays of pale blue into the cloudless sky. The
morning was peaceful and quiet. A light haze hovered over the
pasture. The trees in the distance almost glowed with spotted
reds and yellows. In the sky, three barn swallows flitted about,
playing in the chilly, crisp air, diving and climbing like acrobatic
jet fighters. The outside world was so serene and calm, Amber
momentarily forgot about her predicament, forgot about judge,
forgot about her wooden prison, forgot about the Dobermans.

The Dobermans. Where were they? She held her breath and
listened. The only sound was the morning songs of some birds
in the distance. Maybe they'd run away again. Maybe-

Before the next thought could materialize in her mind, the
dogs were there, just on the other side of the boards, growling,
snarling, baring their white teeth, the look of hate in their
vacant eyes.

The new girl yelped. Amber spun around to find her sitting
up, eyes wide, lips parted, face twisted in fear.

Amber ran to her, fell to her knees, and put her arms around
New Girl's shoulders, pulling her close like a mother comforting
her frightened daughter. "Shhh. It's OK. They can't get in."

New Girl pulled away and looked at Amber with panicked eyes.
"Who-who are you? Where am I? What-what happened?"

Amber stroked New Girl's hair. "My name's Amber. Amber
Mann. You're in a barn somewhere. You-"

"A barn? How did I get here?" New Girl looked around,
taking in her new environment with a wide-eyed bewilderment.
Her eyes fell on Amber and studied her face. Amber thought
she must look like a train wreck. What a sight to wake up to.
"Who are you?"

Amber tried to smile and be reassuring. She knew the
trauma of waking up in this strange place, trapped, scared, and
not having a clue what had happened. She didn't want New
Girl panicking on her. "My name's Amber Mann. You're safe
in here."

The dogs began barking and growling again, pawing at the
boards. New Girl shrieked and leaned closer to Amber.

Amber placed a hand on New Girl's head and stroked her
hair again. "They can't get in," she said. "They can't hurt us."

After a few seconds, New Girl pulled away, hugged herself,
and said, "How did I get here? I remember going home after
work last night, taking a shower, and getting a call from the
UPS guy. After that"-she looked at Amber and her chin quivered- "nothing. I can't remember."

Amber cupped New Girl's face in her hands. "Honey, you've
been taken-"

"Taken? What do you mean, taken?"

"I mean abducted. Kidnapped. Taken."

Realization dawned on New Girl's face as tears puddled in
her eyes. She laced her fingers through her hair and scanned the
barn again, eyes wide. "Kidnapped?" She turned, and Amber
saw the wild look in her eyes. She was ready to lose it.

Amber jumped into emergency mode. She had to calm the
girl down before she totally cracked and went loco in this confined space. "Shhh. I'm here too. I was taken too. We'll be
all right. We'll get out of this."

"You-you were kidnapped too. How long?"

"I've been here a week."

"A week? Who? Who took us?"

Amber frowned and combed a hand through New Girl's hair
again, pushing it off her forehead. "I don't know. But he wants
to keep us alive. He brings food and water and toilet paper and
blankets. What's your name?"

New Girl tugged at her sweatshirt and looked around, eyeing
the rough floorboards, the gaping wall boards, the cathedral
ceiling dotted with restless bats. "Ginny. Kidnapped? He's
gonna kill us, isn't he? He's gonna kill us."

Before Amber had a chance to stop her, Ginny scrambled to
her feet, rushed the wall, and began screaming for help, clawing
and kicking at the boards.

,ARK STONE SHUFFLED ACROSS THE KITCHEN, FRESH
refill of coffee in hand, steam curling from the mug. His
'morning routine was moving right along. The alarm went
off at 5:05; he'd hit the snooze button two times and crawled
out of bed at 5:30. The sun wasn't even near up yet, the sky a
heavy sheet of navy blue. He stretched, wiped the sleep from
his eyes, and stumbled into the kitchen, keeping the house dark
for the sake of his eyes. Still in a half sleep, he went through the
motions of making a pot of coffee. With mug firmly in hand,
held close to his face to absorb the warm steam, he then headed
for the bathroom, cranked up the shower, and climbed in.